


The Shackles

by gluedwithgold



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Crushes, Fluff, Humor, Kissing, Light-Hearted, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:17:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6554320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluedwithgold/pseuds/gluedwithgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is part of a prompt challenge undertaken by myself, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Adrift">Dancing_Adrift</a> and <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/non_tiembo_mala">non_tiembo_mala</a> where we took the same photo of Jared and each wrote a story about it:<br/><img/></p><p>Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome! Kudos give me warm fuzzies! <3</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Shackles

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a prompt challenge undertaken by myself, [Dancing_Adrift](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Adrift) and [non_tiembo_mala](http://archiveofourown.org/users/non_tiembo_mala) where we took the same photo of Jared and each wrote a story about it:  
> 
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome! Kudos give me warm fuzzies! <3

Jared steps into the studio - which is really just a small warehouse the band had rented to serve as a rehearsal space and base of operations - to see a handful of people milling about. Misha, the band’s manager, is sitting on a sofa tucked in the corner, hunched over a pile of paperwork that sits on the beat up coffee table in front of it, occasionally passing one of the sheets across to the guy sitting in the chair next to the couch - the other bodyguard, Jared assumes, judging by his size. On the other side of the room where the makeshift stage is set up are three of the band members - drummer Mark, bassist Jason and guitarist Rob - names Jared only knows from reading the band’s website. They’re huddled together, Rob holding up a binder in front of them, quietly discussing whatever is on the pages. Closer to the door is a desk, behind which sits a slender red-headed woman who is smiling and laughing at Jensen, lead singer, who sits on top of the desk, legs dangling over the edge. Their conversation is unmistakably flirtatious, but it doesn’t keep Jared from letting his gaze slide up and down Jensen’s body. It was the concert photos of Jensen on the website that had kept Jared in front of his laptop for more than an hour, and convinced him he needed to apply for the bodyguard job on The Shackles’ upcoming east coast tour. Now here he is, ready to fill out the payroll paperwork and have a meet and greet with the band, two weeks before going on the road with them for six weeks - over a month in close proximity.

He isn’t delusional - he knew when he applied that it wouldn’t be some fairy tale where he and Jensen fall in love on tour and live happily ever after. The guy is probably straight (yes, Jared had searched the web for any and all press about The Shackles and their lead singer, looking for any clues about his sexuality. He was bored. Shut up.) and anyway it would be pretty unprofessional. Jared’s really just happy to be getting out and feeding his wanderlust, away from the club he’s been a bouncer at for the past year. There’s only so much techno and remixed top 40 a guy can take. Not to mention the glitter. Fuck the glitter.

“Jared!” Misha’s overly-chipper voice breaks through Jared’s musing and he steps over to the seating area, reaching across the coffee table to shake Misha’s hand.

“Hey, Misha. How’s it going?”

“Good, man, good.” Misha shuffles a few stacks of papers around, sliding a pile across the table toward Jared as he sits down in the empty chair next to the other bodyguard. “So, this is Clif, your co-protector. He’ll be babysitting Mark, Rob and Jason. We’ll have you chasing after the five-year-old that is Jensen.”

Jared feels his face blanch, his stomach giving a bit of a lurch. He tries to keep his eyes from popping out of his head.

“Seriously? Not two and two?”

“Yeah. Seriously.” Misha’s mouth turns up in a smirk. “Trust me. Jensen needs a full-time parent. The other guys are… more subdued.”

Jared turns to glance at Clif when he hears him chuckle quietly.

“Okay… ” Jared’s stomach stops its lurching and begins to fall, alerting him to the fact he may have bitten off more than he could chew with this job.

“Here’s the thing. There’s the standard ‘keep the groupies from tearing off Jensen’s clothes’ duty. Get him from the concert venues back to the bus in one piece. Stay in the wings backstage during the performances in case anyone gets past security and jumps the stage. Hold back the autograph hounds at breakfast. But Jensen is… a bit hyper. Especially after a show. Adrenaline or whatever. Just need you to make sure he doesn’t end up passed out in a ditch or splattered all over the tabloids. Cliffy’s done Jensen-duty the past three tours, so, we’re giving him the choirboys this time.”

Jared nods to Misha, glances over to give Clif a weak smile, then takes a deep breath. He can do this. No problem. At least there won’t be any glitter.

***

It’s far too early. Annoyingly early. Screw consciousness at six thirty in the morning. Jensen tosses his duffel into the luggage compartment of the bus, adjusts his sunglasses and pulls the brim of his baseball hat down a little lower against the evil rays of sun peeking over the horizon. Bastards. He climbs up the steep steps onto the bus, glancing around at his bandmates and bodyguards, all lounging and talking quietly.

“Someone better have gotten me some fucking coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah, one large cup of black tar.” Jason holds up the cardboard cup and Jensen steps forward to reverently pluck it from his hand.

“Jason, you’re my hero.” He peels back the plastic flap on the lid as he brings the cup to his lips, inhaling deeply before lowering himself to a seat across from Jared. After a few sips he relaxes into the seat, glancing over at his new babysitter. Yeah, babysitter. He knows what Misha and the rest of the guys tell his bodyguards. Fucking Misha. He’s a little miffed about getting stuck with the new guy - he’s used to dealing with Clif, knows how much of an asshole he can get away with being and not have him walk off the tour. Breaking in someone new is just - annoying.

Jensen is well aware of his behavior. He knows his method of blowing off energy while on tour isn’t exactly the healthiest or safest but - fuck it, he’s still young and living his dream. The band is slowly rising in popularity, six albums down and even though they don’t play huge venues, they regularly sell out their shows. He’s going to enjoy it for now, just until they get famous enough that he has to stop. Live in the moment, right?

He glances over at his new bodyguard, Jared, sitting tucked into the corner of the bench seat with his feet on the edge, a book propped up on his knees. He looks about Jensen’s age, maybe a few years younger. Crazy tall and built, he definitely looks the part. Faded, ratty jeans, a Ramones t-shirt that looks old enough to be from one of their actual tours, a black and gray skull bandana tied around his head holding back what looks like longish hair. A goatee and three silver hoops in one ear, along with a wrist full of leather bracelets makes him look like he could be on stage just as easily as working security. At least he doesn’t look like a stiff.

“Hey.” Jensen stretches his leg out across the aisle to kick at Jared’s shoe, getting his attention. “Whatcha readin’?”

“Oh,” Jared says, jolting his attention away from his book and looking up at Jensen. “Pirsig.”

Jensen glances at the copy of _Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance_ that Jared holds up, then gives him an impressed nod.

“Deep.” Jensen watches a crooked smirk turn up one corner of Jared’s mouth.

“Screw deep. It’s a good story.” Jared’s smirk turns into a full-on smile.

“I like you already.” Jensen chuckles. He takes a long swallow of his coffee, slouching down in the seat as he pulls his hat down over his eyes then crossing his arms over his chest as the bus lurches forward and pulls out onto the road.

***

Jared tries to keep his attention on his book, but either his mind or his eyes keep wandering. He’s been stealing glances at Jensen for the past half hour. The guy is sprawled out with his legs crossed, stretched out in the middle of the aisle. He looks like he might be sleeping but he sips at his coffee occasionally. He seems… relaxed. Not the hyperactive child Jared was warned about. He figures it's probably too early, that he’ll see what he’s really up against after the first show tomorrow night.

Four hours into the trip the bus pulls into a rest stop on I-95 in New Hampshire - they’re headed to Portland, Maine for the first show, then they’ll work their way south to Florida - and everyone piles off the bus to stretch their legs. On duty now, Jared follows Jensen inside where he wanders around the convenience store picking up a couple bottles of soda and a bag of chips before making his way to the cash register. Jared stands just off to the side as Jensen drops his snacks on the counter, and immediately notices the wide-eyed look on the cashier’s face.

“Oh my god!” The girl can’t be more than eighteen or nineteen, and her voice squeaks and grows louder as she speaks. “You’re...oh my god! Jensen Ackles! Oh my god… Ohmygod I love The Shackles!”

Jared takes a step closer when Jensen glances over to him, watching the girl carefully.

“Can… can… can I have an autograph?” The girl stutters as she squeaks, her face bright red. Jensen’s face breaks out into a grin, one that Jared thinks is mostly genuine, but maybe turned up a notch for the sake of the fan in front of him.

“Sure, sweetheart - what’s your name?” Jensen pulls a pen out of his pocket.

“C-Carly.” The girl stutters again as she slides a piece of paper across the counter and watches, bouncing on her heels as Jensen signs the paper and slides it back toward her. “Oh my god thank you so much! This is so cool! I have all your albums and…”

“Miss…” Jared cuts her off, taking another step closer. “We really need to be going, if you could ring up his purchases?”

“Oh,” the girl says, her excitement starting to deflate as she reaches her shaking hand out and picks up one of the sodas to scan it. “Sorry, of course.”

One minute and five dollars later, they’re walking out of the building and back toward the bus across the parking lot. Jensen chuckles as he pats Jared on the back.

“You’re pretty good, man. Thanks.” Jensen glances over, smiling, and Jared is pretty sure he sees Jensen’s eyes rake down his body as he turns his head back toward the bus. Maybe? No. He didn’t just check him out. Couldn’t be.

“No problem.” Jared clears his throat and picks up his pace to keep up with Jensen as they make their way back to the bus.

***

“Whoooooooooooo!!!” Jensen hoots as he makes his way from backstage to the green room, bouncing behind Jared with his hands on the guy’s shoulders. He realizes too late that his yelling was probably right in Jared’s ear - he’s not that much of an asshole - but he doesn’t seem to be cringing too badly so Jensen continues bouncing and pushing him toward the green room so they can get the hell out of there.

The first show of the tour went great, spot on, and Jensen is sweaty, amped up, and needs more music as soon as possible. Loud music. And alcohol.

He fishes a beer out of the ice bucket in the green room, flipping the cap off with his ring and taking a deep pull. He looks around, sees the other guys packing up their things, Jared and Clif off in the corner talking - probably Clif giving Jared last minute advice.

“Guys! You coming out tonight?” Jensen nearly yells as Rob, Jason and Mark start heading for the door. Mark turns back with his hand on the knob.

“Nowhere you want to go - just out for food, man.”

“Aww fuck you too!” Jensen takes another pull from his beer, nearly draining the bottle as he watches Clif cross the room and follow the guys out. He turns to Jared, who’s leaning against the far wall of the room. “They suck!”

Jared pushes off the wall with a shrug and walks across the room. Jensen hides the fact he’s watching him move by lifting his beer to his mouth again, tilting his head back to drain the bottle. There’s something about the guy that’s got Jensen’s attention. He’s just not sure what it is yet.

“Where’re we headed?” Jared asks. His tone is nonchalant, and Jensen is watching him blatantly now, trying to figure it out. He’s not bored, not interested. He’s… Fuck. Professional. Jensen shrugs. The guy’s getting paid to follow him around, so he’s going to do what he wants. Not like they’re friends.

“Anywhere loud.” Jensen sets his empty bottle down on the table, snatches up his jacket from the nearby chair and heads for the door.

***

As soon as they step through the door to Oasis, Jared groans. Maybe there was a muffled curse, too, but definitely a groan. He sees Jensen turn around, raise an eyebrow at him, so he shrugs and gives him a short wave of his hand to say ‘nevermind’. He follows Jensen to the bar, hears him order a tequila shot and a beer before he turns back to Jared.

“Don’t like dance clubs?” The music is pounding and Jared reads Jensen’s lips more than hears him.

“I just left a place like this to do this tour.” Jared shakes his head as Jensen turns back to the bar, throws back his shot and picks up his beer.

“Aww, c’mon… it’s not that bad!”

“Dude. Glitter.” Jared rolls his eyes.

Jensen lets out a full-bellied laugh at that, tossing his head back as it takes over his whole body. Jared can’t help but grin. He also can’t help the twinge in his gut or the way his breath catches as he watches Jensen.

“Sorry, buddy… but I need to move!” Jensen gives Jared three swift pats to the center of his chest before turning and making his way to the crowded dance floor.  

Jared stays to the edge of the dance floor, moving to one side or the other whenever he loses sight of Jensen in the crowd. As much as Misha and Clif had warned him about Jensen’s antics, Jared doesn’t see much more than dancing and a little flirting. It’s more than an hour before he even goes for another drink.

At two in the morning Jensen’s still only had three shots and three beers - not the uncontrollable partying Jared had been lead to expect, but he had been told to try to get Jensen back to the hotel to sleep at a reasonable hour, and since the bus is heading out at ten he figures it’s time to try to wrangle the guy home.

Except Jensen is nowhere to be seen. Jared paces the length of the dance floor - he’d just had eyes on him two minutes ago - but he’s just gone. Jared heart rate picks up as he runs through all the possible scenarios that could have a six-foot grown man disappearing off a crowded dance floor, but instead of panicking, he starts with the most obvious explanations. He checks the crowd around the bar first, then heads to the men’s room, scanning the crowd of sweaty, glittery people on his way.

“Oh, fuck!” Jared blurts before spinning himself around as soon as he steps into the bathroom. Because there, up against the sink is a short blonde with her tight black dress hiked up over her hips, bent over with Jensen behind her. His pants are down around his thighs, his bare ass clenching as he pounds into her. Which is embarrassing enough, but as soon as he heard the door open, Jensen had turned around, looked Jared right in the face, and _grinned_. “Dude, we gotta get going when you’re… um… done.”

“Got it!” Jensen calls out. Like he’s done this hundreds of times. The fucker. Jared decides right then and there he’s not going to let this guy get to him.

“Hope you’re using a condom!” Jared says as he pulls the door open to leave.

“Cover your stump before you hump!” he hears Jensen reply, and he can’t help but laugh as he steps out and finds a spot in view of the bathroom door to wait.

***

One thing Jared wasn’t warned about before going on tour is that he’d be sharing a hotel room with Jensen and how hard it is to get him to wake up in the morning. Or that he’d be responsible for getting Jensen back on the bus on time. Or how cranky Jensen is before coffee. So at 9 am, after half an hour of calling his name and getting nothing but grunts and ‘fuck yous’ for his effort, Jared puts a steaming cup of coffee on the side table next to Jensen’s head, lid off so the scent will fill the air, cues up The Misfits on his phone with the volume as loud as it can go and steps out of swinging range. He smacks Jensen’s ass as hard as he can, presses play and yells.

“JENSEN!” Jared takes two quick steps backward and watches as Jensen flails on the bed, tangling himself up in the covers until he’s sitting upright. He has a hard time stifling the laughter when he sees the indignant look on Jensen’s face combined with the red-streaked pillow marks on his cheek and the hair sticking out in a million different directions.

“You better have coffee you fucker!” Jensen rubs at his eyes.

“On the nightstand.” Jared smirks, picks up his own coffee from the TV stand and sits down on his own bed while shutting off the music. “Got an hour before we head out.”

“Dude, turn that back on,” Jensen says as he sips at his coffee, scooting himself back to lean against the headboard. Jared starts his phone playing the music again, but turns it down to a less obnoxious volume. Jensen leans to the side and rubs his ass cheek with his free hand. “Shit man, that hurt.”

“Figured it was fair game since you’re okay with flaunting your ass to a whole club.” Jared lets out a chuckle at the way Jensen freezes, his face flushing slightly.

“Yeah… sorry about that.” He takes a long gulp of his coffee.

“Yeah, you looked sorry last night.” Jared smirks.

“Oh, come on… not like you could really see anything.” Jensen smirks back with a shrug. “Besides… it’s a nice ass. You should feel privileged.”

“Right. The only asses I want to see are the ones I’m intimately acquainted with, thanks.”

“Oh yeah? You an ass-man, Jared?”

“Um…” Jared is suddenly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation has taken.

“Don’t be a prude,” Jensen says with a wink that causes Jared’s face to flush now.

“You could say that.”

“What? Are you gay?” Jensen says, picking up on Jared’s inference far quicker than he’d expected.

“Yeah, I am.” Jared glances around the hotel room. “That a problem?”

“Hell no,” Jensen says as he untangles himself from the covers and stands up, heading across the room to the bathroom. Standing in the doorway, he pushes down his boxers and kicks them inside. “Just now I know you were lying about enjoying seeing my ass.”

The bathroom door closes, leaving Jared sitting on the bed red-faced.

***

Three weeks into the tour, Jensen jumps during a show. It’s a jump he’s made hundreds of times, hopping up as high as he can get to land on the last beat of the song. But this time, he lands wrong. His ankle rolls, his knee twists, and he goes down, face first, flat on the stage.

The first person at his side as he rolls himself up to sitting in front of the hushed crowd is Jared. Jason and Rob are there next, followed shortly by Mark and Clif. Jared swipes his bandana off his head and uses it to staunch the bleeding from Jensen’s nose while an ambulance is called and one of the venue organizers comes out on stage and declares the show, obviously, over.

Jared rides with Jensen to the hospital while the other four get a cab. While Jensen is getting his knee and ankle x-rayed, Jason calls Misha so he can cancel their next show. After that, everyone just sits around, waiting to hear the damage.

Three hours later, Jared is wheeling Jensen to the curb with his ankle in a brace to support the sprained ligament, the six of them wait outside for their cabs to arrive and Misha is called again with an update. Jensen needs to stay off his ankle for a few days, but he should be okay to go back to performing as long as he takes it easy. They have him pumped full of morphine for the pain, of which he is feeling none.

Back at the hotel, Jared helps Jensen to their room, Jensen’s arm slung across Jared’s shoulders, one of Jared’s arms gripping Jensen’s waist and the other holding his injured leg under the knee so he doesn’t put any weight on it in his doped-up state. In the elevator, Jensen leans heavily against Jared.

“Dude, I fell on my ass…” Jensen mumbles, his words slurring together. “No, my face. Fell on my face, not my ass. Good thing.”

“Why’s that a good thing?” Jared asks, laughing a little.

“Cause. Wouldn’t want to hurt my ass. ‘S a nice ass. You like my ass.”

“Jensen.” Jared shifts the dead weight leaning on him, trying to get him more upright. “You’re high.”

The elevator dings, door slides open, and Jared maneuvers Jensen down the hall, into their room and onto his bed. Jared pulls Jensen’s shoes off, then wrangles him out of his bloodied shirt and into a clean one. Getting him out of his jeans so he can sleep comfortably is more of a challenge since he’s so out of it from the drugs - Jared is a big, strong guy, but so is Jensen, so it’s not like he can lift him up to strip him.

“Come on, man, help me out here - lift up.” Jared has Jensen’s pants unfastened, but his dead weight won’t let him pull them off his hips.

“You tryin’ to get to my ass again, Jar’d?” Jensen slurs, then starts giggling.

“Yep, exactly Jen… going after your hot ass. Now lift up.” Jared gives a pat to Jensen’s hip and he finally lifts up off the bed and Jared slides the jeans down.

“I wouldn’t mind, y’know.” Jensen mumbles as Jared works the tight fabric down his thighs, being cautious of his left leg so he doesn’t jostle the injured ankle too much.

“Wouldn’t mind what?”

“Havin’ you… you after my ass,” Jensen says with a sigh as his legs are finally freed from the denim. “You’re… you’re kinda hot… and I like you…”

The last statement is muffled by the pillow when Jensen turns into it as he shuffles around getting comfortable. Jared freezes, ball of wadded up denim in his hands, and watches as Jensen settles in and drifts off to sleep. Jared shakes his head.

“Yeah, dude you’re so high right now.” Jared chuckles as he shakes it off, folds up Jensen’s pants then gets himself ready for bed. He doesn’t get much sleep that night.

***

Jensen wakes up to his ankle throbbing. It’s just before dawn, gray light just barely starting to seep through the curtains of the hotel room. He rolls over and looks across to the other bed. Jared is sound asleep, his breathing even and quiet. He’s kicked the blankets mostly off in his sleep, his long legs tangled in them on the bottom half of the bed. Jensen thinks he must have been tossing and turning, because his t-shirt is scrunched up on one side, wrinkled under his arm and revealing the smooth skin of his right ribs. His boxers are twisted, pulled tight across his ass, the right leg bunched up and twisted. Jensen finds he can’t keep his eyes from following the long line of Jared’s bare thigh, leading upward to the smooth curve of his half-exposed cheek. All of the exposed skin looks warm, soft, inviting. He’s overcome with the urge to touch, to run his fingers up the length of him, listen to Jared’s breathing change with each caress. He wants to taste, lick, bite every inch he can see and more. He wants to slide in the bed next to him, listen to the sounds he makes while he sleeps, feel Jared’s heat against his own skin.

He lets the images draw his eyes closed again, pull him back into sleep where they twist and turn and evaporate into dreams.

***

The next morning, Jensen is sitting up in bed, staring at his ankle that’s propped up on pillows, nearly pouting because he’s got to stay off it for the next few days. Jared comes back into the room with two cups of coffee, stepping across the room to hand one to Jensen.

“Thanks.” Jensen takes the cup, then wrinkles his nose when the strong scent of sweat hits him. “Dude! You reek! What the hell?”

“Just got back from a run,” Jared says, laughing. “You’re usually still asleep when I get back. You need to hit the head before I shower?”

“Fuck… go shower, I’ll hold it till you’re done just to get rid of that smell!”

“Nice, Jensen…” Jared chuckles on the way to the bathroom. “Real nice.”

Fifteen minutes later, when Jared opens the bathroom door, Jensen has made his way, hopping on one foot, across the room and is now standing there, waiting his turn. As soon as Jared clears the doorway, Jensen hops forward, slamming the door behind him.

After a few minutes of fumbling around in the bathroom, a little cursing, Jensen finally gets himself in the tub, reduced to taking a bath since he can’t put any weight on his injured ankle. As he’s working on cleaning himself, dipping the washcloth into the hot water, Jensen begins going through the previous night’s events in his mind. He feels his face blanch when he remembers his drugged-out mumbling as Jared helped him to bed. He drops the washcloth to the bottom of the tub with a wet splat.

“Fuck.” The curse is barely a whisper, followed by Jensen’s hand swiping down his face which has now recovered from blanching, only to redden just as quickly. He spends the next few minutes berating his overactive libido while he finishes washing, drying off and dressing again. He takes a deep breath before turning the knob on the door and hopping back out into the room.

“Hey,” Jared says, looking up from his book as Jensen makes his way back to his bed, then slipping the bookmark between the pages and setting it on the bed as he swings his legs over the edge. “I was gonna go get some breakfast - you want anything?”

“Oh, um… yeah,” Jensen says, reaching up with one hand to scratch at the back of his neck. At least this will buy him some time before he has to apologize for being a perv. “Anything greasy would be good.”

Jensen watches as Jared stands from the bed, crosses the room to pick up Jensen’s discarded jeans from last night and fishes out his cell phone. He moves back between the two beds, depositing the phone on the night table within Jensen’s reach then heads toward the door.

“Need anything else while I’m out?” Jared pauses with the door partially opened, turning back to look at Jensen.

“Nah, I’m good man, thanks.”

Jared gives a quick wave as he steps out into the hallway, the door falling closed with a snick after him. Jensen breathes out a sigh of relief, his mind ramping up to a mile a minute as he tries to figure out what to do about the sticky situation he’s gotten himself into now.

Jensen grabs his cup of coffee from the nightstand and takes a few swallows. His mind replays the previous night again, this time focusing on Jared helping him up to the room: focusing on Jared’s hands on him, the firm grip around his waist, one large, strong hand on his thigh, on the press of Jared’s body against his, all warm and firm muscles, the heat that radiated into Jensen’s side, on Jared’s fingers unbuttoning his jeans, tugging them down off his hips…

Jensen reaches under the blanket and presses at his groin, trying to push his dick down under his boxers. His other brain seems to see something entirely different in that replay, something other than a man just doing his job, or even helping out a friend when he’s hurt and drugged. He takes another swig of coffee, gives his head a shake to try to clear out the images his mind is creating.

He thinks about the previous three weeks, most of which he’s spent with Jared at his side. The first week was a little awkward, getting to know Jared bit by bit. He’s good at his job, no doubt about that - that became apparent the first day. And since the initial awkwardness passed, the guy is easy to talk to; he’s laid back, doesn’t seem put off by Jensen’s bullshit. And funny, too. They’ve had more than a few good laughs together. Whether he finds him hot or not (which he totally does), Jensen really likes the guy.

Jensen’s heart stutters with a few hard thumps in his chest. Is he really thinking about Jared _that_ way? He hadn’t thought about an actual relationship with anyone since before the band got together. He’s been so focused on the music, he just hasn’t considered it. Not that he’d ever been much of a relationship type. Over past few years there’s been a couple people he’s dated for a month or two, in between tours, but it’s always fizzled out, taken over by the travel and the long nights in the studio. So what the hell is it about Jared that’s making him think about something more?

And really, he can’t have something more with Jared, right? The guy works for him; Jensen is essentially his boss. That can’t happen… can it?

Jensen pushes down on his dick again, now that he’s noticed he’s fully hard, his boxers tented under the blanket. Fuck. He’s really gone for this guy. Maybe he should just go for it?

***

Jared walks back to the hotel, bag full of take-out containers swinging off his wrist, his mind wandering. Well, wandering as far as last night, which he can’t stop thinking about. The panic he’d felt seeing Jensen go down in a heap on stage, the rush of adrenaline that had him darting from where he was watching from the wing to center stage and kneeling in front of a bloody-faced and groaning Jensen in a mere instant. It’d been pure instinct, the urge to take care of the guy coming out without hesitation. And that instinct hadn’t faded with the adrenaline rush; it’d lasted all the way back to the hotel, right up to the moment he was sliding Jensen’s pants off him and another instinct had taken over.

Stepping into the elevator, Jared was glad it was empty so he could adjust himself under his jeans. The memory of having his hands on Jensen’s body, pulling his shirt off, noticing his half-hard cock under his boxers as Jared maneuvered the guy’s jeans off his hips - it all lit up the fire in the pit of Jared’s stomach that he’d been so far successful at stomping down. He worked with the guy - _for_ the guy - he couldn’t, shouldn’t be having these feelings.

But... There’s something about him. Outwardly, the guy is an asshole. Jared gets now why Misha and Clif had given him so many warnings. Jensen has a way of doing his own thing with no regard for anyone around him. And yeah, sometimes those things appeared wild - sometimes they _were_ wild. That had become apparent within the first week. But underneath the appearance, Jared feels like he sees Jensen for who he really is. So passionate about what he’s doing that no performance is ever enough, the passion creating an energy that feeds on itself so he’s left no choice but to expend it with more music, dancing and sex. And that gruff exterior? All the cursing and rudeness? All just a cover for the passion he feels that he doesn’t want to let show because somehow it’d make him vulnerable.

Maybe, Jared thinks. Maybe after the tour. For all of Jensen’s antics, Jared has noticed he’s completely professional. Maybe with the exception of last night’s flirting, but that was the drugs talking. And maybe that’s all it was, too. Just the drugs. Maybe Jensen doesn’t feel anything at all for Jared.

As the elevator doors slide open, Jared steps out with a sigh and heads down the hall toward the room. He swipes the key card and pushes through the door, finding Jensen sitting up on his bed, leg propped up, just as he’d left him.

***

By three in the afternoon, the hotel room is washed in an awkward silence. Jared is leaning against the headboard of his bed reading, and Jensen is on his own bed, foot still propped up, barely paying attention to the television that’s on with the volume turned down low. Jensen is about ready to crawl out of his skin from being stuck in one place for so long. He sits up enough to pull the pillow out from behind his shoulders and flops backward with a loud sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

“Everything okay over there?” Jared glances up from his book and across the small space to Jensen.

“I can’t take three days of this, man.” Jensen rubs his hands down his face roughly. “Gonna go outta my fucking mind if I can’t move. Shit.”

“Hotel has a gym downstairs.” Jared marks his place in his book and turns to face Jensen. “You can’t do leg work, but nothing says you can’t work out your upper body - would get some of that energy out at least.”

“Pffft… I’ve never been to a gym in my life!” Jensen chuckles as he rolls halfway over onto his elbow to look at Jared.

“Hey, I know your usual workout is a bit more _glittery_ ,” Jared says, smirking. “But at least it’s something to do, right?”

“What is it with you and glitter?” Jensen laughs.

“It’s evil. Incarnate.” Jared shakes his head. “So?”

“Fuck. Guess it’s worth a try.” Jensen pushes himself up to sitting, looks up at Jared and shrugs.

“Cool. Change into some sweats or something, I’ll go get your crutches from Clif.” Jared stands and heads for the door.

“Crutches!?” Jensen blurts out, indignant. “You didn’t tell me I had to use crutches!”

“Hey, it’s either crutches or staying in bed for three days, your choice.”

“You fucker!” Jensen hurls a pillow toward Jared, only managing to hit the door when Jared ducks out quickly, laughing as he goes.

Fifteen minutes later, after listening to Jensen bitch about the crutches all the way from the room to the gym, Jared has Jensen set up on the lat pulldown machine and settles himself in for some bench presses. After his first set he sits up and pulls his shirt off. As he’s lowering himself back down he glances over just in time to see Jensen’s head turn back to front quickly. Too quickly. His mouth suddenly feels dry and his heart is thumping in his chest, far harder than the small amount of exercise could have caused. He settles in, raises his hands to the bars and clears his throat once.

“Doin’ alright over there?” Jared asks before starting his presses again.

“Yeah. Great.” Jensen lets out a long slow breath as he pulls the bar down, hoping it sounds like part of his workout and not him trying to regain his composure. “Hey, did you bring your phone?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Need music. You mind?”

Jared digs his phone from the pocket of his sweats, taps in the passcode and hands it to Jensen. He turns his attention back to bench presses as Jensen begins scrolling through his music collection. A few minutes later, Jensen smirks while tapping the screen. Jared’s classic rock playlist starts pumping from the small speaker and he goes back to working out. An hour later both of them are dripping sweat as they head back toward their room to take turns getting cleaned up.

Jensen comes hobbling out of the bathroom and flops on the bed to towel off his hair, looking over to see Jared once again buried in a book.

“Hey, Jared?”

“Yeah?” Jared sits up slightly, stifling a yawn and adjusting his bandana.

“Thanks for… you know, suggesting the gym.” Jensen ducks his head just a little. “I do feel better.”

“No problem.” Jared shrugs as he swings his legs off the bed to sit up. “Figured it’d help. I used to be pretty hyper, too. It’s a lot healthier than clubbing - no offense.”

“Nah, it’s cool. You’re right. I am getting a little old for all the drinking. I know it. It’s just - it works, y’know?” Jensen tosses his towel in the vicinity of the bathroom and pushes himself up on the bed to lean against the headboard. “Fuck I can’t imagine _you_ hyper. You’re the most laid-back person I’ve met.”

“Yeah, well,” Jared chuckles. “Got myself in some trouble because of it, had to simmer down.”

“No shit. What kind of trouble?”

Jared lets his gaze linger on Jensen’s face for a few moments while he considers whether or not to tell him. This is the first real conversation they’ve had, not that they haven’t talked for the past three weeks. It wasn’t his most shining moment, but if Jensen is going to be real with him…  Of course, this could be the perfect opportunity…

“It’s not a proud moment. If I tell you, will you answer a personal question? Honestly?”

“Wha…” Jensen’s expression contorts into confusion for a moment before it rolls into resignation - not like he’s got anything to hide, really. “Sure, why not.”

“I used to go out, get drunk - a lot like you do, except it was usually punk or metal clubs, none of that dance pop crap…”

“Hey now!” Jensen interrupts, mocking offense. Jared chuckles before continuing.

“I preferred a good mosh pit, all I’m saying. Anyway, I’d get smashed, jump around the pit to get my aggression out. Some nights it wasn’t enough, I’d end up getting into fights. Last fight I had, guy ended up in the hospital. Was touch-and-go for while, but he ended up pulling through. Thankfully he didn’t want to press charges, but I figured, that was my wake up call, y’know?”

“Damn. Guess that’s one way to hurry and grow the fuck up.”

“Yeah, after that I quit drinking, tried all sorts of different ways to get that extra energy out. Settled on running and the gym.”

“Shit, I really can’t picture you getting all aggressive.”

“It wasn’t pretty, trust me.”

“Alright, so what’s your question for me?”

“Were you, uh…” Jared ducks his head, hiding the blush he can feel creeping into his cheeks. “...checking me out? Down in the gym?”

“Um…” Jensen ducks his head, too, feeling the heat that tells him he just instantly turned into a beet. “Well… yeah?”

“Not a big deal, just… was curious.” Jared bites onto his lower lip as he glances over, sees how red Jensen is. “I mean, I know it’s… well, we work together, so…”

“Yeah, right… and you’re very… professional. Which is good.”

“Right. Yeah. So are you. It’s good.” Jared sits there, chewing his lip, mentally kicking himself. Asking that question made things awkward when they were fine before, and now he has three more weeks to spend with the guy. Way to go. “You… you hungry?”

“Yeah!” Jensen answers a little too quickly, too glad for the subject change. Crap. This was gonna be uncomfortable for the rest of the tour. He should have lied, although his traitorous red face would have betrayed him in an instant. Or, he could have not gotten caught drooling over his bodyguard. That would have been good. “Yeah, pizza?”

“Cool. I’ll call. What do you want?”

“Pepperoni and mushrooms,” Jensen says, pushing out a long, relieved breath. His breath hitches on the inhale when he sees Jared pulling his phone out, and he can’t help the smirk as he watches his face.

“What the fuck?” Jared stares at his phone’s screen, then turns when Jensen starts snickering over on the other bed. “Oh you dick...you did this?”

Jensen bursts out laughing when Jared turns the screen of his phone to face him. The wallpaper is a very colorful, up close photo of glitter with white text superimposed that reads ‘Glitter is the New Black’.

***

Amazingly, hacking Jared’s phone served as the perfect tension breaker after the bumbling conversation admitting their attraction. They slip back into their routine over the next few days, adding in trips to the hotel gym where Jared helps Jensen work on an upper body routine. When they finally get back on the road, Jensen is without crutches but still needing to take it easy, so Jared joins him for workouts after the shows instead of clubbing.

Over the next two weeks, Jensen is amazed at how much calmer he is with the exercise, and even his bandmates remark that he’s not so grumpy all the time (even though he still has his rude moments, and probably always will, that’s just Jensen). He’s even promised to go running with Jared once his ankle is well enough, though he makes no guarantees that he’ll be pleasant that early in the morning.

It’s the last week of the tour, and Jensen wakes up early on Tuesday morning. It’s one of Jared’s rest days so he hasn’t gone out running, and Jensen hears the shower turn on just as he’s waking up. He figures the guy has gotten him coffee almost every morning for the past five weeks, so it’s about time he returns the favor. He throws on his clothes and heads out the door.

Fifteen minutes later, Jensen is keying into the room, two large coffees stacked in one hand. Just as he’s starting to push the door open, it’s pulled from the other side, causing Jensen to lurch forward, the top coffee cup to fall backward and spill all down the front of him. The next few seconds is filled with a colorful array of cursing, Jensen trying to pull the hot, coffee-soaked shirt away from his skin to avoid being burned and Jared simultaneously pulling him into the room, relieving Jensen of the remaining coffee cup and apologizing profusely.

Jensen rips his shirt off once his hands are empty, and then Jared is pulling him into the bathroom. He soaks a washcloth in cold water and slaps it across the reddest part of Jensen’s chest.

“Hold that there,” Jared orders as he turns back to the sink, soaking another cloth.

“Fuck, that sucked!”

“Doesn’t look like you’re burned too badly.” Jared lays the next cloth over the rest of the reddened area of Jensen’s chest and holds it there, his palm flat against one of Jensen’s pecs.

Jensen leans against the counter, breathing and letting the shock-induced adrenaline rush slowly seep away. He watches as Jared uses his free hand to wet down another washcloth. His stomach does a few acrobatics as he sees the serious, concerned expression on Jared’s face, and his mouth goes dry when he starts to feel the warmth of Jared’s hand seeping through the wet cloth on his chest. He closes his eyes briefly, but opens them again when Jared speaks.

“Here, swap this out.” Jared tugs on the lower cloth and Jensen takes the fresh one from Jared’s fingers and lays it on his skin. He hisses and feels his skin pebble up with goosebumps.

“Fucking christ that’s cold!”

“Sorry,” Jared says, chuckling as he runs the first cloth under the cold water again. He pulls his hand away from Jensen’s chest and replaces the washcloth, his hand returning to the round bulge of Jensen’s pec, the cold making his nipple perk up and the pressure of Jared’s hand over it making his mind spin.

“Thanks,” Jensen mumbles, his eyes seeking Jared’s. Jared looks up, hazel eyes locking onto Jensen’s.

“No problem.” Jared’s voice is quiet, just above a whisper. He swallows, feels his adam’s apple bob up and down with the motion. He sees Jensen’s eyes dart down to the movement in his throat, then slowly drift back up, pausing at his lips before meeting his eyes again.

It’s just a few seconds before Jensen drops his hand from his chest, the washcloth hitting the floor with a splat as he latches onto Jared’s bicep and leans forward, slightly up, and presses his lips to Jared’s. They linger for a few seconds, then Jensen takes the half step to close the small distance between them, Jared’s hand on his chest trapped between them and his other hand, still dripping and cold from the water, sliding around Jensen’s neck to cup the back of his head. It’s Jared who angles his head to the side, deepening the kiss, but it’s Jensen’s tongue that darts out first, flicking against Jared’s lips to lightly pry them open. Jensen’s free hand grips onto Jared’s hip and tugs, pulling him closer still and eliciting a low moan from Jared’s throat as their groins press together. Jensen slips his tongue past Jared’s lips, flicks once at the back side of his front teeth then pushes in to slide against Jared’s tongue. Their breathing picks up to short bursts, each of them feeling the warmth against their faces. Jensen groans when Jared’s tongue twists around his own, his hips thrusting forward to create friction against both of their now-hard cocks. Jared pulls his hand from between them, gripping onto Jensen’s shoulder, his fingers digging into the muscle while his tongue and lips move more desperately against Jensen’s.

It’s another few minutes before they break the kiss, lips slowly, hesitantly pulling apart. They are both breathless, and though their lips separate, the rest of their bodies stay pressed together, Jared dropping his head to press his forehead against Jensen’s.

“Jensen…” Jared takes in a deep, shaky breath. “This is…”

“Unprofessional?” Jensen’s fingers dig into Jared’s hip a little tighter.

“Yeah. Probably not…”

“Yeah, not a good idea.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuck it.” Jensen’s voice is louder now.

“What?”

“It’s my band. Fuck it.”

Jared pulls his head back to look at Jensen. His eyes are wide as they take in Jensen’s grin but he can’t help the smile that turns up the corners of his mouth.

“I’m an asshole, remember?” Jensen continues. “I usually get what I want. Life in a band doesn’t really leave much room for anyone. They get sick of me leaving for months at a time, and I’m sick of being alone. So fuck professional. I want you.”

Jensen steps forward, pushing Jared backwards and out of the bathroom as their lips slot together again. They step and stumble until they’re back in the room and fall onto the bed.

 ***

After the tour has ended and they’ve made their way back to New York, Jared becomes a regular at the band’s rehearsals and shows around the city. A week later Jensen and Misha have a very long, very loud conversation about keeping Jared on as bodyguard. Jensen wins.

The next tour takes them through the south, from Florida through Texas,  there are no more injuries, and Misha’s feared conflict of interest never comes to pass. Unless Jensen pouring glitter over Jared’s head after three of the shows counts as conflict.

And even though Jared still has to deal with glitter on a regular basis, he’s learned to deal with it because babysitting Jensen is a far better job - a far better life - than he’d had before.


End file.
